Farm Fresh Blog

     When you live on a farm, there are certain things you expect. Mud will be tracked in the house, you will go to work with hay in your hair, and there are mice in the barn. What you do not expect, nor will you tolerate, is this:

     Other Half returns home last night bearing coffee. I decide to put it in a little-used bottom cabinet which contains old dish towels and burned oven mitts. Slide open drawer. Fat mouse runs along the drawer ridge and disappears in back of drawer.  Scream and commence the Mouse Dance.  (modified version of the Rat Dance) As I jump up and down, point and scream, Other Half (who has been law man for 30 years) also begins to scream and jump in place.  I yell for my Contract Killer - aka Lily the Border Collie, who is fearsome confused by all the excitement.

     I clarify to Other Half that the suspect is a mouse, not a snake, (he was certain I had found a snake) and point Contract Killer toward drawer.  She begins her search for Trespassing Rodent but has no luck. Stewart Little the Mouse has crawled out of the drawer and into the back cabinet.  I slowly open drawer above the bottom drawer.

     A tiny mouse stares up at me. I scream. Contract killer cannot get to mouse before Stewart Little's Little Friend scampers off.  Other Half shouts at me to cease shrieking when I am surprised by a rodent because "it scares the crap out of him."

      I am beside myself. Two mice in less than two minutes! Contract Killer and I now begin a diligent search for mice in the kitchen. As I slowly open cabinet doors, she scans the contents like a Raptor, searching for her prey.

     Other Half finds this vastly amusing.  (I am still amused that he screamed like a girl while I was doing the Mouse Dance. Yes, I know, I was screaming too, but I have boobs, therefore I can scream when I see a mouse and get away with it.)

     Our systematic search of the kitchen is fruitless.  We clean out the cabinets and Other Half baits mouse traps with peanut butter.  I inform him that the cats at my For Sale House are coming here! NOW! (They are still living in the barn at the other house until it sells. It's under contract now. Keep your fingers crossed.)  Other Half informs me that he does NOT want house cats.  They are dirty. They come with litter boxes. He does not like cats in the house.  I remind him that I don't like RODENTS in the house. He continues to set mouse traps.  I state that I will NOT set mouse traps, nor will I empty mouse traps of deceased rodents - that is NOT in my job description.

     I prefer to hire contract killers for such work.  (cats and Border Collies work nicely)

     Other Half informs me that I am over-reacting to the idea of mice in the kitchen.  After all, it's just a little mouse.  They've probably been crawling all through the cabinets and we haven't died yet.  I am not amused.

     The next morning I check his traps. Two are empty of peanut butter and there is a fat blond mouse in the third one.  Other Half is beside himself with happiness. I am grossed out.  The dogs and I go outside for a walk and a morning frappuccino. (Yes, I'm drinking again. Wouldn't you be?)

     I return from the walk to find Other Half standing in the kitchen re-setting traps with peanut butter.  My gaze happens to land on the kitchen sink.  There is a stiff dead blond mouse splayed out in a trap on my kitchen sink.  I begin screaming and shouting at him.  He fails to grasp the problem.  (MEN!) At this point I am ready to have an apoplectic fit. I order him to remove said mouse from my sink and disinfect the entire sink and counter.  He agrees but argues, "it's just a mouse."

     Am I alone in this? Am I a voice crying out in the wilderness? Does anyone else have a problem with a freakin' mouse on the kitchen sink??!!!

     And what really scares me is this: 

If I had not SEEN the Rigor Mortis Rat (okay, it was a mouse) on the sink, would he even have bothered to clean it?!!!  EEEWWW!!!!

Yep, he thinks this is funny.  Wait till he comes home to find that I have purchased a ferret. (just kiddin') I will name it Rikki Tiki Tavi. (I know. He was a mongoose. Hey!  That would work too!)

"The only good mouse is a dead mouse!"